


Almost Better Than

by orphan_account



Category: Sam & Cat (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First kisses and meatballs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Better Than

Sam's parking her motorbike when she smells it. And _no_ , it couldn't be, except Sam's nose never lies and it _is_. Oh yeah, it's _meatballs_.

And holy mother of deliciousness, Sam is inside like a shot, so fast and quiet that Cat visibly jumps when she turns and sees her.

"Oh!" Cat says, totally casual, like it's any other day, instead of a day of the most major importance imaginable, a day where there are _meatballs_.  "Hi!" she says.

"You cooking meatballs?" Sam asks, just to be certain.

"I sure am! They'll be done in about ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?!" Sam exclaims, because that's an eternity, it may as well be _forever_.

"You want to make out while we wait?" says Cat.

And Sam is so preoccupied that for a second it doesn't register what Cat's actually _said_. "I…" she starts, then stops. "Wait, _what_?"

"I thought we could make out." 

Sam narrows her eyes. "You made me meatballs because you want to make out with me?"

"No." Cat looks away, then meets Sam's gaze, eyes as earnest as Sam's ever seen them. "I made you meatballs because you like them. I want to make out with you because I like _you_."

"Oh," Sam says, because that actually makes a whole lot of sense. It's always unnerving when Cat makes sense, but that's at least partly why Sam likes her so much, how charmingly _surprising_ she can sometimes be.

But still, Sam has to consider the question for a moment before she replies, "Can we make out _after_ the meatballs?"

Cat shrugs, but she's smiling, Sam can see. "I can wait," she says, turning back to the stove, her hips swinging, and goddammit because apparently Sam _can't_ wait.

"How long we got?"

"Five minutes," says Cat, her voice sounding a little breathless.

"That's long enough," Sam tells her, grabbing hold of Cat's shoulders, pushing her up against the refrigerator, pressing close to Cat as she kisses her.

And the _noise_ Cat makes, the tiny squeak as her body goes limp under Sam's grasp? It's better than _meatballs_.

Or _well_ , Sam thinks, _almost_ better.


End file.
